Matters of Life and Death
by Fuzzy Necromancer
Summary: parallel plots in two timelines. Inuyasha and pals face a mysterious threat in a house of healing, and Kagome encounters a new student and a series of mysterious desecrations. UNFINISHED
1. Chapter 1

Matters of Life and Death: Chapter 1

"Iron Reaver Soul Stealer!" Inuyasha shouted out as he swung his claws, tracing arcs of light that ripped through the air to sink into the massive worm demon's flesh. It may interest you to know that he actually had a good reason for saying the name of his attacks every time he used them. As a half-demon, he had a number of conflicting energies surging through him. If he used a true kiai yell to focus his strength, he would risk upsetting the balance of human and demon within his body, triggering a temporary and dangerous transformation.

The creature raised its head and let out a high-pitched shriek before lunging after Kagome. As its monstrous pincers made to sever her torso, she fired an arrow at it, yelling some piece of trash talk as she did so which was wasted on the unintelligent beast. She let loose another arrow as a follow up, and the two went straight up through its mouth, searing away large tracks of innards with their sacred energy. Unfortunately worm demons are born with biological redundancy, and the creature merely turned to seek another venue of attack.  
Shippo cowered, cute but useless, in a shady spot between three trees along with Myoga, the exposition-providing flea.

As the demon lunged at Sango, Miroku jumped in front of it, removing his prayer beads and yelling "Wind Tunnel!" as the portal to nowhere inside his hand engulfed the writhing invertebrate. Unlike Inuyasha, he had no excuse.

Breathing a relieved sigh Kagome stared up into the sky, admiring Inuyasha's lean and powerful form silhouetted by the sunset. _Wait a sec_, she thought anxiously, _sunset?!_ Kagome gave a little whimper of panic.  
"Well, goodbye everybody!" she called hastily as she headed off toward the will on her bicycle at a frantic pace.  
_I'm late!_


	2. Chapter 2

"Remind me again why we're wasting time on this pointless side-quest?" Inuyasha asked moodily, wearing his semi-permanent scowl, angered by the fact that the myriad possibilities of the cosmos should **dare** to in some way delay his quest for the sacred jewel.  
"Because, my sympathetically challenged traveling companion, during the fight with the centipede our dear friend Sango got a nasty dose of paralyzing venom which proved to be beyond Kaede's skill to heal. Consequently, we are seeking out a temple of healing which common lore holds to have not just a hot spring but an actual ethereal link to the source of life and healing itself, on the rational that if they can't do it, nobody can." During the course of his short speech, Miroku's hand migrated cautiously over to Sango's rump.  
"MIROKU!" Sango yelled. She swung an arm to smack him but missed badly and only lightly brushed his shoulder. While the venom hadn't been enough to fully immobilize her, her motor skills were badly impaired, and she wouldn't be slaying demons any time soon.  
"Yes, it is a shame," Miroku said as if he hadn't detected the attempted slap or the yell of offense, continuing in a conversational manner while his hand kneaded her buttocks furiously. Shippo remained uncharacteristically silent, wholly absorbed in the demanding task of playing the hand-held video game Kagome had given him.

Inuyasha jumped a short distance ahead, jostling Sango free of Miroku's grasp in the process. "What I don't see is why I have to carry her?"

"Well, Shippo's only a small boy, Kilala's back at her breeding grounds in heat, and I'm not willingly going anywhere near that collection of groping tendrils that calls itself Miroku," Sango defended from the papoose-like vessel she was placed in on Inuyasha's back.  
"Well memory serves me, you're not the safest person to be around after you've had a few. If you get your hands on a shot of sake I'm dropping you like a forty pound maggot. Speaking of which, maybe Miroku wouldn't be grabbing your ass all the time if there wasn't so damn much of it. What did you eat this morning, buttered lead?"

As Sango opened her mouth to respond, a scream of homicidal rage shook the forest, issuing from the direction in which they were headed. After a pause everybody continued onward in silence.


	3. Chapter 3

Kagome clambered out of the well, her bicycle awkwardly gripped in one arm, the handlebars clenched between her teeth. When she half tumbled out of the well, her little brother stood there, chewing on a stick of pocky thoughtfully.  
"Hey Kago-" he was violently interrupted as she leapt to her feet and desperately shoved him aside.  
"Notimetotalkgottagobye!" she gasped out as she sped onward like a squirrel being pursued by a humvee. She tilted her head at the clock and saw the hands indicating the time was half past the hour of eight in the evening. Hair all over, uniform torn and stained, still reeking of demon blood, she gave an acquiescing sigh and collapsed into a heap.  
_So much for the make-up test,_ she thought. In a way she was relieved, deep inside she knew that she wouldn't be prepared anyway. It was simply impossible to keep up to the challenging standards of Japanese High School education and maintain a battle against the forces of evil for the sacred jewel shards at the same time. _Time..._ The word bounced listlessly around in her brain searching for something to connect with. The well allowed her to journey back to the feudal era, and back from the feudal era to the present day. If she spent a day in the feudal era, a day would have passed back home, and visa versa. But that didn't make sense. If it truly sent her through time, shouldn't she arrive at the moment she left? Maybe the well was like a pipe that time flows through, somehow fixed outside of time, and no matter far time coursed through it, it could still only take you a certain distance. She put her face in her hands, deep in thought, and became aware of the powerful stench upon her which only a worm demon's entrails can produce. She paused to wipe a large glob of unidentifiable organic fluid from her arm and headed upstairs to take a shower.

As Kagome set about relaxing and cleaning herself off, her mildly eccentric grandfather was busy tending the shrine. He, like most humans in his day and age, lacked the true spiritual power, wisdom, and dedication to see into the subtle spirits and unseen entities that constantly shape and control our world. Right now a strong metaphysical current churned about and through him. Miniscule wind spirits whipped about playfully through the air, directing the chaotic gas molecules in patterns so intricate and unpredictable that it would be several centuries before human scientists discovered their presence, and more than twice that time before any learned men and women began to so much as guess at their meaning. Amorphous nature spirits slid and bubbled energetically through the earth and plants, conversing with the nocturnal mammals and vegetation as much as their limited mental capacities allowed them. The spirit of the shrine looked down at the aged man with amusement, calmly observing the clumsy efforts of his ethereally incompetent guardian.  
Most of the lesser spirits were dancing about, delighting in the darkening evening, the warm night air, and the countless mystical brethren these changes would bring. One spirit however remained solemn and grave. The spirit of the great tree that grew by the shrine, watching over it, saw a subtle wake of infrared slinking its way towards them. This spiritual emanation was a demonic aura, but a very carefully disguised one, masked by layers upon layers of inward restraint and supernatural stealth. Strong or weak, such a clever and subtle demon is one of the most dangerous kinds to mortal folk. The peculiar shade of the aura brought to mind some nagging recollection, but it had been so long ago, and so shifting and vague a presence that even the steadfast tree spirit found itself unable to conjure up the memory. It could figure out one thing though. Whatever this evasive thing was, it had ill will towards the house and all who dwelt within.


	4. Chapter 4

Despite the foreboding scream, of which there were several repetitions, Inuyasha, Sango, Shippo and Miroku arrived at the temple without incident. There they were greeted by an elderly couple, dressed with humble dignity. Despite being well into their eighties they were both in states of perfect health, a testament to the salutary powers of the temple. Though there bodies were vital, their faces revealed a troubled anxiety that rattled their ancient bones. They silently led the company in and listened while Miroku explained the nature of the injury. The old man spoke first, while heating an herb mixture. "You say you are demon slayers. Perhaps you could help us the entity that has been plaguing us these past few-"  
"Now just a second!" Inuyasha barked. "What's with the requests? I suppose you won't help Sango unless we solve your problem for you."  
"Please," the old man said, "just hear my plea. We will heal your friend without price regardless, but it would be appreciated if you listen to our request."  
Inuyasha nodded dumbly, taken aback by the venerable healer's unimposing humility. "Several moons ago, one of our patients was wandering the grounds and came back physically recovered but gibbering and howling in a violent fit. The damage to their mind was difficult to repair, even with rare poultices and spells. When he was rational again, he said he had encountered a demon that had healed him with its claws and beat him back with its wings, filling him with a mind-numbing rage that lead to his present state. When more of our patients started succumbing to the same madness, we came to realize that the demonic attack was coming from somewhere within our temple. Other strange things have been happening, such as patients developing abnormal deformities of mind and body, and objects coming to life and attacking. We only are unharmed because of our protective spiritual purity and mutual non-aggression with all living things."

With the poultice applied and her wounds re-bandaged, Sango rose. "I'll help you."  
Miroku rose. "Naturally, I will accompany lady Sango. This is some powerful form of demon unknown to me, but you may require the special skills of a monk to defeat it."  
Inuyasha looked around and gave a little unhappy grunt of acquiescence. "Well, I guess I don't have anything better to do right now" he said in a surly tone. In truth, this meant " I'm terribly sorry for my atrocious behavior. I generally just act apathetic and aggressive to conceal my various deep emotional insecurities brought on by the stressful life of a motherless half-demon, and because I to some extent blame myself for the shattering of the shikon jewel and the destruction its shards have caused," but of course, his psychological defense mechanisms would not allow him to admit this.


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm bored." Inuyasha said. There was a brief pause, and he followed the statement with an angry "This is a waste of time. We should be out looking for jewel shards."  
"Why don't you try playing Shippo's game?" Miroku suggested in annoyed tone. "No way! Why should I do anything nice for that jerk?" Shippo yelled, defensively clutching the video game.  
"Feh. Don't worry, I'm not interested in little kid's toys," Inuyasha said with a snort of disdain. In truth, he desperately wanted to play, but his fingernails got in the way and kept hitting the wrong buttons.  
"Well, you could go and grope the invalids with Miroku," Sango said caustically.  
"I haven't yet laid a hand on them, but I'm sure the comatose and newly dead would be more responsive than you," Miroku spat back, his face ugly with an uncharacteristically angry look.  
Sango turned and slapped him.  
"That hurt you bitch!" he yelled.  
"No," she said. "This hurts!" She hit him again, harder. Then he punched her in the chest. She swung a kick at him, but he ducked and she sent Shippo flying against the wall. The enraged fox demon lept at her and sunk his fangs into her leg, causing her to scream in pain, while Miroku struck her in the head with his staff. She tore off the young youkai and grabbed him and Miroku by the throat, squeezing and throttling them while they clawed and hit at her respectively. "IRON REAVER!" Inuyasha yelled. As a swipe of energy cut towards them, the each were forced to let go and leap in different directions.  
"Now that I have your attention," Inuyasha said, in a barely controlled growl, "if you're done trying to kill each other, please tell me ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR DAMN MINDS?!"  
They all paused to glare at each other. It did seem odd, insane even, to go at each other over nothing. Sure, they argued a lot and occasional exchanged blows, but if they weren't stopped just then they really would have killed each other. Shippo, Miroku, and Sango all recoiled in shock and disgust. "This isn't normal. I'll bet my sword it's this demon's doing. Imagine what a time he'd have if we all managed to butcher each other before we even got near him. So I suggest we all…try…to…stay…CALM!" In dazed obedience, they each sat down a respectable distance apart and set to brooding over their own matters.


	6. Chapter 7

Miroku stared out at an empty chair. He was bored. It was his shift to keep watch, with nobody to talk to, he felt like he would soon pass out from lack of mental engagement. He felt something wet, and turned to see Sango sticking her tongue in his ear. "Up already?" he asked, grinning. Sango just leaned forward as he reached back and massaged her rear.  
The wind blew the doors open. Sango and Miroku were joined by Kagura, wearing nothing but a hairpin. As Miroku leaned out and removed his shirt, he heard a voice call. "They can wait there turn." A long-nailed hand grasped his shoulder, and he found himself facing Inuyasha. "Come here cutie." 

Miroku woke up the others with his screaming. "What's wrong?" Sango asked. "Anything attack?" Shippo asked nervously."N-no, just a bad dream." Miroku said, waving the subject away. "Well whatever it is it sure made you scream like a girl," Inuyasha snickered. Miroku shuddered and inched away from Inuyasha with a fearful attitude that perplexed him.

Miroku was backed up against a chair, and it gave him quite a start when the afortmentioned chair kicked him in the head.

The lecherous monk turned around, startled by the blow. It was an ornately carved, with armrests and coverings on the back. A pair of rubies set in the chair back served as a eyes for a bizzare face. "What...did that just..."

The chair bent over its back with an elasticity that exceeded its material, stricking Miroku on the head with unhallowed accuracy. Sango and Inuyasha lept up. "The hell?!" Inuyasha exclaimed. "Posession," Sango said. The half-demon lobbed an iron reaver at the fiendish furniture by way of reply, but the chair dodged and weaved with chaotic unpredictability. Sango slammed it hard, using her boomerang as a club, rewarded by the sound of cracking wood. The face ripped upwards into a pair of jagged lips, made a hissing noise, and went galloping away through the paper and wood door.

For a moment they stared at the hole, transfixed by the strangeness of it all. Then Shippo wordlessly leapt in after it, and the others followed suit.


	7. Chapter 8

Firetail of the Rabbit-killers ran down the dark alleyway, claws pattering the damp pavement, dodging in and out of the sulphurous streetlamp illumination. This was what Firetail had named himself of course. Most people did not call him this. If the average human resident of this particular city had been forced at gunpoint to put a name to him, they would say "um…a dog? Maybe a sick badger? Can you just stop holding that gun to my head please?!" But Firetail of the Rabbit Killers was not human. He liked to smell humans, and he liked it when they gave him food or petted him, but he had little concern for what they thought of him or named him so long as it wasn't followed with a gunshot or an airborne sake bottle to drive the point home.

Firetail came to a stop at the alley's termination. This was partly because he had smelled something, but more because he the alley was a dead end. Having a poor understanding of the forces of friction in respect to wet pavement, he slid onward to smack against the unforgiving brick wall and spent several minutes whining piteously and licking himself.

Firetail of the Rabbit-killers then turned around to investigate the smell. He grabbed the source and yanked it, only to recoil as his sensitive nose was met with a heart-jarring shock. Aside from the odor of liquor and decay, there was the unmistakable aroma of human. Perhaps a lesser dog might have simple gone and gorged upon the body then and there, but not Firetail. Even in his almond-sized excuse for a nervous system, he had enough moral and emotional capacity to feel some grief and respect for a dead. He nuzzled the body sadly, gave a howl of chagrin, and then trotted off.

For a few minutes nothing stirred the night air. Something breathed a sigh of relief and then slunk from the rooftop like liquid night. It turned on the rotting body of the homeless gentleman, and waved its tails like dueling metronomes. The corpse shuddered, jerked, and slowly rose. It drunkenly shambled out of the alleyway, moving with the demon's will.


End file.
